


let there be light

by easystreets



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Gen, Singing, The Gang Singing, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27873238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easystreets/pseuds/easystreets
Summary: The Gang and the apocalypse.
Relationships: Charlie Kelly & Mac McDonald & Dee Reynolds & Dennis Reynolds & Frank Reynolds
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	let there be light

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I wrote this instead of studying for a test.

They lock the doors. Halfway through the morning, when Dennis is trying to get the beer-soaked radio he found in the back office to catch a signal while Frank and Dee are scavenging for all of Frank’s guns and miscellaneous weapons (he swears he left a tomahawk in one of the toilet tanks; Dee remembers him abandoning a spare shotgun in a desk drawer somewhere), the lights go out.

“Fuck,” Dennis says, more angry than anything, but Charlie can hear it in his voice: _this is real,_ he can feel the fear strangling his throat. “I can’t see. Where the hell is our generator, Frank?”

There’s a fight: Frank is adamant that one of Dennis’s “whore girlfriends” stole the hundred-pound generator, and they argue over this, pick at invisible and insignificant bones until Dee admits that she actually saw Cricket dragging it out the other day, thought that the hunk of metal was a worthless piece of junk and let him take it. Then it’s like everything ugly on the back of their tongues incinerates itself, all warm angry reds and hot copper sparks like dynamite; like the weight of the entire situation (a real actual zombie apocalypse, Charlie thinks in silent wonder, it’s practically something out of the movies) has crushed all of their silent worries. There are words blurring past him in the air--  _ fuck you Dee, letting fucking street rats in our bar, how could you, I didn’t know Dennis well you twos have always had your heads up in the clouds goddamnit Deandra and Mac wouldja stop the praying, we’re all going to Hell _ \-- and then Dee’s voice, shrill and almost melodic, cutting through the whirled monotony of their usual banter.

“I didn’t know that there’d be an apocalypse right outside the front door!” Dee says, and if Charlie could see her, if he lifted his head off the lemony-smelling bar, he’d swear her arms would be crossed, back bent forward and incorrigible. “I don’t wanna die in Paddy’s, guys,” she says, her voice wavering, and it’s then they finally break.

“We’re not going to die in Paddy’s.” Mac says, certain, as he goes to find a cigarette lighter in the pockets of his pants. The Bic lighter in his hand is shaking as he holds it up, glowing light illuminating the sallowness of his skin. “We’re not going to die unless God says so.”

“Dee,” Dennis says, his hands wrapping tight around Dee’s arm. Almost too tight, Charlie thinks, but bad touch is all Dennis knows. This is Dennis trying. “We’re golden, okay? We survived tons of other shit. Remember New Jersey?” 

“What happened in New Jersey?” Mac asks, head tilted in golden light, haloing around him.

“Nothing,” Dee frowns, her voice more steady, staring down at her hands. “I guess we survived that stupid Christian cruise.” That had been pretty bad, Charlie thinks, but at least then they were fine with dying. It was a certain thing: they would all die young, and they would all die together.

“Through prayer,” Mac reminds them, his eyes all dark like Jesus. “God had our backs. And I pray for you guys like, every night, so you’re covered.” At this, Dennis and Dee’s faces contort into a look they both get whenever Charlie tells the

“I’m not going to Heaven,” Frank says. “Don’t be sayin’ my name to God or whatever.” 

“Yeah, dude,” Dennis says. “I mean-- every night?”

“I have a whole list!” Mac says. “First it’s my dad, so he doesn’t get tempted or anything in prison. Then my mom, then my dad again, then Dennis, Dee, Frank, Charlie, Dee again because you really need salvation, and then my dad, then Poppins, and then I’m usually done.”

Dennis stares at the ground, shocked silent. “...why?”

“Well, it’d be boring as shit in Heaven by myself without you and Charlie. And if I want Charlie, I’m gonna need Frank.” Charlie nods at this, because, hell, it’s true. “And Dee is your twin sister,” he says, like that has any actual bearing on anything at all. 

They’re all quiet for a bit. Dee sits cross legged on the ground underneath Charlie and rolls joints for them all; Charlie is pretty sure he hears Frank trying to find the glow sticks Artemis bought for a rave a couple of years ago, and there’s the unmistakable sound of Mac doing dude pushups-- “these aren’t girl pushups, no Charlie, they’re way more badass, trust me,”-- on the floor.

Finally, Dennis breaks the silence. “Guys? Can I just say something? I like it, um, when we’re not all… all at each other’s throats.”

“Yeah, I for one enjoy not being shit on.” Dee admits. She tugs at Charlie’s pant leg. “I mean, it’s _weird_ getting along. And I’m still, uh, not quite over the whole Mac-praying-for-us-for-the-past-fifteen-years thing.”

“Let’s just move past it,” Dennis says. “I mean, we’re all very bored.”

“We should do something. What did we do before our phones?” 

“Well, we talked.” Dee says. 

“I’m sick of talkin’.”

“And I seem to recall going out for brunch a lot.” Dee says.

“Not an option.”

“Let’s sing a song,” Charlie finally says. “That’s what we used to do. Sing songs, put on shows.”

“You know what? That’s actually not a bad idea,” Mac says. He starts humming something unrecognizable, but then Dee joins in and it’s soft and airy and light, like some sort of angel voice.

Dennis joins in then, and somewhere along the way so does Frank, and then Charlie’s following along, dizzy and scared but still there, with his best fucking friends in the world, singing songs in the dark, and everything’s beautiful.

“The acoustics in here are terrible,” Dennis says. “Let’s go on the roof.”

They follow him up the stairwell and on the way Charlie grabs a bottle of booze, Frank close behind on his footsteps. 

“Much better,” Dee says. The stars are almost out and the sun is a golden orange tangerine and it’s so wonderful he almost wants to paint it but even just looking at it to remember it for his dream book is good enough. “On three guys?”

“We start on three or after three?” Mac asks.

“On three.” Dee shakes her head but there’s not even any heat in it. “Always on three, Mac.” 

“Alright, ready?”

“Charlie, count us in.”

And he may not know his numbers all that well, but he does know this: there are piles of dead people in the street and zombies scratching at the door and yet he hasn’t felt this good in a long time and he’ll be damned if he’s giving it up.

“One, two, three.” Charlie says, and then everything is light.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I took a break from IASIP fic to write a fic for one of my most dearly beloved novels and I missed it so. Comment if you wanna say hi or tell me about your day! Also if you've written a Sunny fic and nobody has given it attention pls link it and I will give it love <3 
> 
> ALSO,,, what song do you think they're singing?


End file.
